ach that strange rhythm,
when the world swirls and falls and your heart beats so loud you think it will break.
when each breath expands your chest but not your lungs.
dizzy and silly and scared and happy.
everything echos across the wood floor and time trickles slower.
mirrors and mirrors but we don't see ourselves...
the other's speck still blinds us.
the eyes daze and blur, but the hands--
strangely the hands have no need to rationalize..
the hands can remember that feeling even two hundred years from now.
written on 6/20/2013, copyright mvm2014
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